The Road Not Taken
by PostingTheStories
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, dreaming of the future isn't always what it's cracked up to be. Then again, maybe it's better to make your mistakes in your dreams and know which path to take when the time really comes. Slight bad language. Amourshipping Week 2017, prompt: Letters.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Pokemon. I know, it's shocking, isn't it? Some random guy doesn't own Pokemon.**

* * *

The rain, thought Serena, was a nice touch, as she listened to the pattering sound of raindrops on the window.

That is, if there were anything 'nice' about this grim, or at least _frustrating_ , task.

She was once told that repeating the same activity over and over expecting a different outcome was madness. She supposed, then, that she was fit for the asylum, for she reached for a notebook in her backpack and deposited it with some force on the table. Still in her Coordinator outfit, having managed to win first place.

Again.

She had a knack for Pokemon Contests, it seemed. She was making progress much more quickly than she had in Kalos, and with the experience she was picking up in Hoenn, she thought she might have a real chance at becoming Kalos Queen next time around. She'd kept an eye on the Showcase circuit since she left, and as she rapidly learned, she began to saw small flaws in Aria's performances. She was able to see the girl in a new light, understanding things she couldn't before.

She'd grown in knowledge and skill. Her Pokemon had grown as well - Delphox and Sylveon were now faster, more graceful, and rapidly becoming more creative themselves. They'd learn to improvise, reading their master's movements as she changed her strategies to compensate for some unknown factor or to rapidly capitalize on a new idea, and often added flourishes of their own.

But it was Pangroo who had grown the most out of the four of them, both physically and literally. He was no longer a tiny, cute little panda, but rather a large, proud one with an air of dignity and nobility about him. He'd worked hard to keep himself sleek and refined, unlike many others of his species. At first, though she would never admit it, Serena was worried. She was worried not merely for his performance, but also what would happen to the personality of her Pokemon and friend. Would controlling him turn into a struggle? Would he resent her, or demand his freedom? Fortunately, her doubts were relatively quickly quashed. His evolution - surprising everyone - had won her the Contest handily, especially as he quickly compensated for this change to their plans, and everything worked out beautifully. Afterwards, except for needing more food, and a few changes in grooming strategy and a couple of their routines, things were pretty much as they always were.

Her bond with her Pokemon was stronger, she was more skilled, she was tougher mentally, and she was even a considerably better battler. And she felt she owed much of that to Ash.

Not that he seemed to care one bit about it.

She sat alone in her hotel room, having needed the extra room to prepare for the Contest. This win might pit her against May, the so-called Princess of Hoenn herself; the girl had given her encouragement and help when she first arrived, and though she was known for being extraordinarily kind, she seemed to take a special liking to Serena. Although Serena wondered about competing against her new-found friend, May seemed to be looking forward to it, easing her concerns. She would mention that in her next letter.

Which would probably go where all the other ones went. In the garbage.

Oh, she didn't put them there herself, of course. She mailed them. But after 10 months of traveling in Hoenn, letters, e-mails and even voice mails every week to her friend and not-so-secret-crush, and she had not heard so much as a single word back from him. She had to assume that those letters had gone into the garbage, and Ash had put them there. Possibly without even being opened.

Did he read what she wrote? Did he listen to her voice mails?

Did he even care?

It was a question that she was hard pressed to answer. But she knew, when she thought about the future before... this certainly wasn't what she had in mind. Successful but alone. Not the result most little girls hope for. Then again, most little girls don't think that life might just throw them a few curve balls out of nowhere.

She reached for a pen, trying to think of what to write. She exhaled softly, and began to mutter to herself as she jotted down some words. Just speak from the heart, some part of her demanded, and she felt compelled to comply, feeling the pen smoothly glide over the paper as she began to speak simultaneously.

"Dear Ash," she wrote, speaking to herself quietly. And paused again. Should she continue? Maybe she should use e-mail. Perhaps she was just old fashioned that way, but it felt like handwriting conveyed more meaning, more feeling, more heart, than simply typing up a message over the computer. Both for the reader, as well as the writer; the subtle strokes of the pen reflected not only the proper shape of letters, but also what lay in the heart of the one who set them down to paper.

"I won the Mossdeep Jubilee Contest just a few hours ago. The competition was extremely tough. At the end, I was up against someone named Solidad. She said you'd met before. I almost lost, but Pangroo managed to come through in the last second. You'd be amazed at how much he's learned, and Delphox and Sylveon, too!"

She smiled and tapped her lips with her pen... though the smile quickly turned into a frown.

"But, if you've been reading my letters... you know that already, don't you?..."

If. Big 'if.'

"I mean, I've been writing you almost every week, and using e-mail, and voice mail. I hope you're getting these things, otherwise I'd feel pretty silly at the thought of some guy reading all my letters in the 'lost mail' room at the post office."

That was not a fun possibility to contemplate. She frowned a little, feeling just a tad warm, and moved to take off her gloves; it did not distract from her elegant appearance, still pristine even after the post-Contest celebration. She was known on the Coordinator circuit as always having a meticulous appearance, something she took pride in, and so long as she had the dress on, she would keep that up at the fullest.

However, the lack of gloves did nothing to improve the fact that her face was creased from a rather large frown as she looked at the paper. The 'conversation' was quickly moving towards topics that Serena had avoided. She'd tried to give Ash the benefit of the doubt. He was busy, the mail got lost, he couldn't get on the Internet.

But after months and months, not even a text? The postal system was notoriously bad worldwide, but it wasn't THAT bad, especially since she'd used many offices throughout Hoenn as she traveled around. And the Pokemon Centers were known to be good at cycling mail to catch up to trainers, and even still... all of dozens of letters, simply vanishing off the face of the Earth?... and no attempts to contact her via the Internet?

No.

Something was wrong.

Perhaps the thing that was wrong was her.

She took a deep breath and began to jot down more letters.

"Ash," she wrote and said at the same time, taking in a deep breath. She should write this out, she thought, even if she never sends it. "Why haven't you replied to any of my letters? I've been trying to get ahold of you for a while now; I put the first letter in the mail when I got off the plane to Hoenn. And I haven't gotten any replies to my e-mail, and I haven't been able to get you on the phone, even with time zones..."

She looked at what she wrote, decorum cracking a little.

"...did I do something wrong? Did I disappoint you? I keep asking myself these things, and I don't have any answers. Because you haven't answered any letters. Not even a 'hi.' Are you mad at me?..."

She felt some trepidation as she contemplated... what she was going to write next. She probably shouldn't, but...

She had to know.

She HAD TO KNOW.

She wrote, quickly, almost sharply, with each stroke feeling like she was wielding a weapon.

"At the airport... did I embarrass you? Did I scare you? I swear I didn't mean to. I'm not going to lie, Ash..."

She hesitated.

Should she continue?

She flicked her eyes over towards the trash bin in the corner of the room. This letter was almost certainly going in there after she finished, she determined...

...but she had to finish it.

"...I'm in love with you."

There.

She wrote it, and said it out loud.

Serena exhaled, releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding. She felt a little better, but not much. She continued, writing and speaking, not sure if she was reading what she wrote or writing what she said or some surreal combination of both.

"Yes, I'll admit it, I am in love with you, Ash Ketchum. As if kissing you didn't show that. But I want to make something clear: I don't want you to feel bad if you don't like me back. I'm a big girl, I can take it. But it really **PISSES ME OFF** that you won't even write or call back. I don't know, maybe you think I'm just some silly, lovesick girl with a crush? Maybe I am, but I still want to be your friend. You helped me more than you can know to break out of my shell, and let me see the world. I owe just being here in Hoenn to you, and I don't just love you in the romantic sense; I also love you as a friend. And I miss you."

She stared at what she just wrote. Although most teenagers tend to use profanity prolifically and readily, she rarely used anything worse than 'darn.' Perhaps her emotions were running a bit higher than she thought; she'd apparently tapped into some wellspring of frustration surrounding her feelings for the boy. She sniffled slightly, her eyes growing slightly moist.

"...so if you're getting this, please write back. If you have to reject me, just do it, but at this point, the only reason I have to know whether you're dead or alive is because nobody's called to tell me they need to identify a body in a morgue in some forsaken place. Or your Pokemon; they're my friends, too, and I worry about them, because if something happened to you, something probably happened to THEM, too. I won't hate you if you don't love me back, but ignoring me **HURTS**. Just... just try to take five minutes and let me know you're OK? You're amazing so I know you can take five minutes just to send me a note."

A sharp exhale.

"I'll write you again next week, even if you don't get back to me, but I'd like to know that my letters are actually being read and not in a trash can somewhere."

She grimaced at that thought, rubbing idly at her eyes. She hated it. Hated writing this letter, hated that she had to write this letter, even if she was ultimately just going to destroy it. But she was out of words and out of time; she needed to finish it.

She pulled back her pen and wrote, scratching the final words into it.

"Love, Serena."

She brushed the tears away from her eyes. For better or worse, she did it.

She closed her eyes, feeling very tired for some reason. She could almost hear his voice...

"...rena..."

She smiled a little to herself; 'Rena' would be a nice nickname for her, if they ever became a couple.

"...Serena..."

Again, though the voice was louder this time. She felt... something... shaking?

"...Serena, wake up!"

* * *

The dream dissipated in an instant as Serena opened her eyes. Ash was crouched over her, looking concerned, and abruptly she realized something - her nostrils, her ears, her throat, all felt clogged, primarily because they were. And her memory was badly muddled, even as the dream was washed away by her rise to full consciousness.

"...Ash?..." she muttered, trying to sit up; she managed it, but it took a lot more out of her than she anticipated. "What... where's everyone, wha..." she glanced around, obviously confused.

Ash frowned slightly, concerned. Silently he hoped she wasn't worse off than he thought she was. A bit of an overview would probably be a good idea; he hoped it would jog her memory; if she was getting significantly worse, his options were limited. "You got sick. You caught what I had, we think," he said, frowning a little. "Do you remember?..."

Serena fought the cotton that felt like it filled her head, recalling and getting her mind in order. A few days ago Ash became sick as a dog, and she had to dress up in his clothes and battle in his stead. But things started getting blurry the day after. She recalled, somewhat vaguely, feeling what felt like allergies, then more then allergies, then stumbling... everything was a blur from there on, but she thought she passed out, came to with her companions kneeling next to her, Ash and Clemont quickly set up the tent, she stumbled in and flopped into her sleeping bag...

"...Bonnie and Clemont went to get more medicine, didn't they?"

"Yeah," Ash nodded. "You got it worse than me, I think. Probably from taking care of me," he stated, glancing around in a somewhat absent-minded manner. Almost slightly nervous. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be, it's not your fault," Serena replied, sounding a lot more together than when she first stirred, rubbing the sides of her head quietly. She vaguely remembered them talking about who should go. Ash wanted to stay with her the most, and Clemont agreed as he pointed out that he was likely immune, having already been sick with this before. Plus, as Bonnie noted (much to Serena's chagrin), she was _very_ certain that Serena would rather have Ash taking care of her anyway.

Fortunately the boys were still befuddled, so her secret remained safe. Exhaustion tugged at her mind again, and she idly wondered why she was awake in the first place. She doubted Ash bothered her for idle conversation; she wasn't precisely in condition to do much chattering.

"Why'd you wake me up?" she inquired. Going back to sleep sounded like a good idea right about now.

Suddenly, Ash's slight nervousness became full-blown nervousness.

"You... sounded like you were having a nightmare," he stated, simply enough, as Serena scrambled to wrest the scraps of memory that remained from her dream.

"It was... kinda... bad..." she muttered. Not like an axe murderer bad, but... very sad. Something about... contests in Hoenn, and winning, and Ash...

Ash...

She swallowed abruptly as she suddenly realized precisely what might have tipped him off as to what it was she was dreaming of.

Crap.

"...uh, Ash?..." Serena asked timidly, silently hoping what she was beginning to suspect was not in fact what happened, even as part of her brain made a mental note to never, EVER speak while writing a letter EVER again, even in a dream. "...how... did you know I was having a nightmare?"

"You were thrashing around 'n stuff," Ash said, quickly, looking very busy with his backpack for some unknown reason. Serena tilted her head slightly... was his face a little redder than usual?...

Serena nodded. But the doubt gnawed at her gut, so she decided to pry a little further. This was just too much, and she'd never be satisfied if she didn't know for SURE...

"...uh-huh, and... uh..." she glanced at her fingers as she pressed them together, distracting part of her as she gathered up the courage to ask the much more important question. "Did... did I say... anything?..."

"Wha? Oh, no, no, you didn't, nothing at all, just mumbled a little and I couldn't make it out," Ash said... again, just a little too quickly, turning towards Serena and giving a bit of a smile. A nervous smile. He scratched the back of his neck, and Serena knew, having spent a lot of time observing him, that neck scratches were generally reserved for when he was feeling nervous or uncertain.

Now Serena was faced with quite a dilemma. Precisely how to ferret out the truth and whether or not she actually wanted the truth at this point. Part of her didn't. But she felt like she was rather trapped; her energy had oozed out of her, and she felt like she didn't have the strength for an extended interrogation. Truth be told, it was taking enough energy just to stay awake.

However, Serena soon had her dilemma answered.

"Pika."

Pikachu. She flicked her eyes towards the mouse. Her ears were clogged; she was having a VERY hard time understanding him verbally.

However, he gave her a _look_ , and that was enough to know that Something Was Up, in capital letters because this was more than just a typical Team Rocket plan here.

She felt her own nervousness begin to rise as Pikachu glanced towards Ash, furrowing his brow a little bit.

Pikachu, for his part, contemplated the situation he was presented with. He was familiar with a situation such as this. All too familiar, and so was Ash.

It was a situation that neither of them were particularly fond of, but the electrical mouse knew well that it had been going on for several months and was on course to come to a head in the not-too-distant future. And he didn't like that. Not one bit.

He awaited a response from Ash.

The trainer continued to 'busy' himself in his backpack. "Serena, why don't you go back to sleep? I'll heat up some soup for you..."

Never mind the disaster that would likely ensue if Ash attempted to make food requiring more preparation than 'open wrapper, insert into mouth, chew.' Serena would have replied, if Pikachu hadn't decided that he would be answered, one way or another.

"Pika."

Ash quickly glanced over towards Pikachu, attempting to keep a neutral expression on his face, and failing tremendously at it.

"...heh, what's up, Pikachu? Something going on?..."

"Pikapi." Pikachu said, firmly, putting his arms to his hip as though he were scolding a child. Which, in a way, he probably was; despite the fact that both Ash and Serena were well into the teenage years, when it came to a few specific subjects, Ash's ability to respond was, to put it euphemistically, below average. Relations with the fair sex were, to the chagrin of his mother, who hoped to have grandkids someday, one of those areas. And he arguably wasn't alone; Serena's subtle affections never got through to him, and it seemed like she had no idea what to do.

Ash and Pikachu were now looking at each other.

Something was going on between the two, and Serena didn't like it one bit.

"Ka pika, pika chu pika pika."

"You wouldn't."

"Ka pi."

And with that, the electrical mouse quickly turned towards Serena. "Pika, ka pika chu pika..."

"PIKACHU!" Ash cried out, reaching over to grab Pikachu, presumably to try to drag him out of the tent to try to get this sorted out someplace where Serena wouldn't hear.

This failed, however, since, considering their relative sizes and the confines of the tent, Ash was an absolute, helpless, hopeless oaf compared to the considerably more graceful Pokemon. A quick leap propelled Pikachu over Ash's grab, and landed him precisely on the head of the trainer, turning him from captor to pulpit.

"Ka, pika pika chu pika..."

Ash froze and looked at Serena's expression towards the mouse on his head. Silently he hoped that perhaps her ears were clogged and she couldn't understand Pikachu.

However, as her expression slowly shifted from confusion and trepidation to blushing, embarrassed _**HORROR**_ , it registered with Ash that she at least got the gist of it.

Did she EVER get the gist of it.

Before Pikachu could continue, though - it seemed like he was going to start speculating about Ash's feelings in front of Serena (and, Ash knew, they were probably pretty accurate) - Ash caught Pikachu by surprise, grasping him and hoisting him off his head.

"THAT'S _ENOUGH_!" Ash snapped, moving to pull Pikachu out of the tent.

"PIKAPI." Pikachu said, and Ash whipped his head towards the mouse. Serena watched quietly, feeling sicker than before.

The prospect that SHE may have come between these two made her feel sicker.

Much sicker.

In fact, it made her feel vaguely as though she was going to vomit. Truth be told, it would have been a welcome distraction at that point, but alas, even as she wished for her stomach to choose that moment for a rebellion, it was not meant to be as Ash glared at Pikachu, angrier with the mouse than Serena had ever seen him.

Pikachu, naturally, was nonchalant. He knew Ash was pissed off, and there might be some shouting. He also knew their bond was unbreakable. Which, in truth, is why he did this in the first place.

Because he wasn't going to just sit back and watch it happen.

Not again.

Pikachu uttered one word, looking Ash dead in the eye.

" **Pikachupi**."

Serena tilted her head as she tried to make out what it was Pikachu said; sounded like it might have been a girl's name, but her hearing just wasn't good enough in her condition for interpreting single words in Pokespeech.

But that didn't matter, really, because even if it didn't make sense to Serena, it made PERFECT sense to Ash. All indications of anger fled from his system as he very gently released Pikachu, apparently no longer interested in arguing with him and trying to save the few scraps of dignity Serena had left and protecting a certain, specific secret of his own that was very pertinent to this conversation.

Instead, he was given a moment to think of a girl with hair the color of flame, an attitude to match, that he hadn't seen in years and left a hole where she once was.

Pikachu seemed mollified as Serena stared, trying to puzzle out what it was that Pikachu _said_ , and if so, why it seemed to short-circuit the entire thing almost instantly. It was just one word. Considering emotions were running high and energy was running low, at least for Serena, she got caught up in trying to figure it out to the extent that, for a few precious instants, she forgot why she was even in this unenviable position in the first place.

Pikachu's ears slicked back, inviting Serena to give him some scritches, and wondering to herself why she did so. Shouldn't she be mad at him, at least a little? No; he only told the truth, and there was, deep inside of her, a sick sense of _relief_.

The ball was, finally, in Ash's court. Truth be told, ultimately that's where it always was anyway, at least so far as Serena was concerned.

Ash, however, abruptly turned back towards his backpack and began searching through it, mind churning as he did so. However, this time, he wasn't merely trying to duck Serena's attention and conversation to spare them both the awkwardness. No, he moved with much more purpose to get something he knew was in there, something that he had hoped he might show her if he could gather up the courage.

For all the righteous indignation he held but seconds ago, Ash was now strangely calm, even while he was nervous. Pikachu got through to him, it seemed. And for his part, Ash... thought.

Because once upon a time, he had another chance. One that vanished right in front of him. For his part, it wasn't Ash's fault; he'd tried to keep in touch, but ultimately his efforts failed despite considerable effort. Plus, youth and inexperience bring problems of their own, in spades. Ash should know; it happened to him.

But Ash was an excellent trainer, and that was in part because of his strategy. He fought his battles like he lived his life - improvising on the spot. This overall approach was responsible, in one way or another, for most of his successes. Indeed, adaptability is a precious trait, and Ash had that in spades, cultivating it carefully like a treasure, his intellect focused almost entirely on it, neglecting other areas to the point that some underestimated him as an idiot.

To make adaptation a strategy in life or in battle, however, requires many things, one of them being that one is willing and able to quickly assess and correct their mistakes, regardless of whose fault they ultimately were.

The mistake was not Ash's fault, but caused by other factors, most of which were out of his control. He did what he could.

But this situation was different. He was older, wiser, and most importantly he had a better idea of what was going on, even as he struggled with his own feelings and fears. He wasn't going to let history repeat itself without at least being able to say that he tried.

However, his internal reflection wasn't heard by Serena, who, unsurprisingly, had not learned telepathy in the 5 minutes since she woke up. He was very silent as he rummaged through it. Pikachu seemed unworried, but Serena couldn't say the same; she scritched Pikachu a little more forcefully, nervous and uncertain what it was he was doing. She opened her mouth to ask, preparing to force herself to speak so that she could END this uncertainty. The gnawing in her gut screamed for her to just get it over and done. Serena was, ultimately, a pessimist, and, as she feared, a rejection was a foregone conclusion.

But her chance to say anything was cut off as Ash threw something at her lap. It landed lightly, in no small part because it was light - very light.

Brochures.

She blinked and grasped one of them, looking at the cover. Travel brochures, and... a brochure about a Pokemon League...?

Ash didn't look at her, facing his backpack and the tent wall for the moment. "...after the championship, my mom wants to go on a vacation to Alola and for me to come with her. There's also a Pokemon League there and a Pokemon school, I was interested in seeing what they had; it's a new one and they're still setting up, and Professor Oak thought it was a good way for me to get experience and maybe really see how you start a League."

Serena stared at Ash, then the brochures again. So he was leaving again. She knew it would happen, but this was concrete proof that not only was he leaving, but he had plans already, which cancelled out the notion that she might invite him to stay in Kalos for a while longer. Her heart sank as she anticipated this was the beginning of some long explanation as to why he could never love her back, never be with her, and her dream - her nightmare - was about to come true. It would (hopefully) be mercifully brief, but nevertheless, her stomach churned in anticipation.

It was though her crush on him left her body and stood straight and tall, resigned to its fate and awaiting its executioner. A cynical part of her wished she'd fallen in love with a sailor; not only is being told "my love is the sea" short, to the point, predictable, and songworthy, it also didn't involve a lot of garishly colored brochures that were designed by someone who appeared to be obsessed with pineapples.

Fortunately, however, although Ash paused, he hadn't quite run out of words yet. He half-turned towards Serena, looking at her out of one eye, almost shyly, seeing her in the corner of his vision and apparently unwilling (or perhaps, unable) to bring himself to look at her directly.

Serena paused as she tilted her head, ignoring the vague feeling of dizziness as she did so thanks to the imbalance caused by her clogged ears. If she didn't know better... were his cheeks just a little bit more red than before...?

Finally, he spoke.

"I... I wasn't sure if you'd be interested, but... I'd... really love it if you'd come with us." Pause. Nervous swallow. Then, a little more quietly, "...with me."

Serena blinked, as Ash appeared to have sent the ball right back into her court. Being sick did not leave her a lot of strength to do a lot of thinking all at once, so the girl was speechless as she very slowly began to piece together precisely what this meant.

But in a way she didn't need to speak. The two males watched in anticipation, wondering if the girl would be accompanying them. Any thoughts Serena had went unsaid, but they saw as she began to process just what Ash had done, at least by implication, by asking for her continued companionship. Ash himself looked as nervous as Serena felt a few moments ago, although Pikachu was relatively calm; apparently to him, the conclusion was foregone at this point.

Slowly, Serena's face began to reshape itself, almost as though it were in tune with the thoughts that pushed through the ball of cotton that felt like it filled her head. It began with an uncertain, saddened frown, looking all the worse for her pale complexion and obvious exhaustion. However, as the seconds ticked by, the corners of her lips began to move skywards, and her cheeks began to move with them, rising to produce a new expression.

A smile.

Finally, she looked towards Ash, who was still looking nervous - perhaps anticipating his own rejection, from the girl he was supposed to be tending to, no less. Regardless of what he'd learned, the possibility of such an outcome was always there, and the prospect of it still terrified the trainer. There was always the chance that her dream confessions were just that - a dream, or grossly misinterpreted with what he overheard her saying in her sleep. Then there was just the plain fear of pushing this into unknown territory; unlike most other things, he was not confident in exploring this. Considering his experience at seeing real relationships close up mostly involved his mother and the father he barely remembered that they hadn't seen in probably a decade or more, he was not entirely certain of what he would find when embarking on one himself. And, of course, regardless of all this, the simple, sobering possibility of losing Serena even as a _friend_...

Ash had good reason to be afraid.

But he wasn't backing down. Not anymore. He'd already come this far, voluntary or not, and he intended to see this through to the end. As such, he forced himself not to flee, or to idly chatter, or do anything but simply await her decision.

It had only been a dream that she'd experienced, and this choice might well go horribly awry. But it almost felt like she was being given a second chance. A chance to go down the road not taken.

She didn't feel nearly so sick as a few moments ago.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

 **Hopefully I didn't butcher this prompt too badly, but I went for what was probably a very alternate take. Also, my profuse apologies if I got anything from Contests wrong. I never paid much attention to them in the game or anime, and what little attention I did pay was years ago, so I tried to keep the descriptions as general as possible. In any case, thanks for reading, and please review! And a special thank you to those who reviewed my last fanfic, I do appreciate it.  
**

 **EDIT: Made a very few minor corrections.**


End file.
